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SECOND i^OPY, 




LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Chap,....:.. Copyrignt No. 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 






Copyright, 1899, 
By Dodd, Mead and Company. 

TWO COPSES R. :a 



mntberstts Press : 

John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A. 






Co 

I- 

-a 






Certain of these verses have appeared in 

Blackwood^ s Magazine^ Longmans^ Magaxine.^ 
CasselPs Magazine^ The Spectator^ The Book- 
man^ The Pall Mall Gazette^ and The Westmin- 
ster Gazette. The writer is indebted to the 
editors of these publications. 



CONTENTS 

Page 

My Lady's Slipper i 

The Banshee 14 

Ireland 17 

The Wind on the Hills 19 

The Lone of Soul 22 

The White Witch 25 

All Souls' Night 33 

The One Forgotten 35 

The Fetch 38 

Near the Forum of Trajan 45 

At Pompeii 48 

"I HAVE BEEN TO HY-BrASAIL" 50 

A Cry in the World 52 

Eclipse 57 

Remorse 59 

Sorrow 65 

A Fairy Prince 66 

vii 



The Fairies 68 

A Rose will Fade 71 

Little White Rose 72 

Innocence 74 

Spring Song — To Ireland 75 

Last Eve 77 

In Southern Seas 80 

Ave Maria 82 

The Fate of the Three Sons of Uisneach 

and Deirdr^, Daughter of Feilim ] . . . 84 

The Bridal of Lady Aideen 92 

The Flight of the Wild Geese 95 

Out with the World 98 

The Little Brother 100 

Love in my Arms lies Sleeping 102 

A Wayward Rose 104 

The Awakening 106 

My Rose 109 

In Wintry Weather iii 

Monica 113 

False Dearbhorgil 115 

"The Me within Thee Blind!" 126 



VIU 



MY LADY'S SLIPPER 

A TRUE STORY 



T AM a man who hath known trouble, 
^ O'Roork of the Lake. 
On my life's glass joy rose as a bubble 
To glitter and break. 

She laid in mine her hands long and slender, 

So softly sweet, 
Little curls on her head tassell'd like tender 
Gold autumn wheat. 
I I 



Brown leaves around her whirling and falling, 

Blown to her cheek. 
I with my heart for her loud in its calling, 

Still could not speak. 

Wife of my foe thus pleading before me, 

There seemed no wrong. 
With my mad passions that stifled and tore me, 

Who could be strong? 

What had she shown me there in her weeping, 

On her white arm ? 
Black, cruel bruises vividly keeping 

Tales of alarm. 

What had she begged me there in the morning, 

God judge me well ? 
What had she said that I without warning 

Struggled in Hell? 



" Take me and save me, be my defender. 

Hide me away." 
She from my old foe bid me befriend her, 

How could I stay? 

Here was revenge for the old bitter wronging, 

Here to my hand. 
Here was the love of my life — of my longing, 

Could I withstand ? 

Thrice did I turn to fly from my danger, 

God judge me true, 
Vowed that my love to her love was a stranger. 

This did I do. 

But when I looked on her, heard her calling. 

Kneeling so low. 
There the sun's sheen on golden locks falling. 

How could I go ? 
3 



Dearly beloved, shaken with sorrow, 

Branded with blows, 
Which way does honour lie, think, for to-morrow 

Only God knows. 

One man should use her so, he in whose keeping 

Broken she lay ; 
One man should love her so, see her weeping, 

And turn away. 

He were inhuman ; riding behind me 

Home did she speed, 
Which way did honour lie, love did so blind me, 

Great was her need. 

There at my door did I linger awhile, 

Tending my horse. 
Saw her flit up the long steps, and her smile 

Bore no remorse. 
4 



On her pale brow was a look of soft peace, 

Upward she went ; 
Never a glance in her welcome release 

Backward she bent. 

Red was her cloak, and her face like a flower 

Dear to behold ; 
Little red slippers she wore in that hour 

Buckled with gold. 

Up the white steps like a flash of red flame. 

In through the door ; 
Quick did I follow to tremble her name — 

Saw her no more. 

Saw her no more from that day — she had gone. 

Vanished away 
Like a bright light on my pathway that shone. 

Then let me stray. 

5 



II 

I had a neighbour — he was my friend, 

Since in the wood 
Lone our two houses were, each gable end 

United stood. 

This was a manor once built for a knight 

In days of old, 
But with the centuries love and their fight 

Squandered the gold. 

So for my friend when inheritance came 

Coffers were bare, 
Just the old keep and the weight of a name, 

This was his share. 

Then he divided the house into two — 

I took a part. 
Now in my grief for his guidance I flew, 

Knowing his heart. 
6 



*' At dawn he departed," the little page said. — 

Time without end. 
Oh, on what broken wings laggard hours fled ! 

He was my friend. 

So the years passed me and shook from their 
wings 

Dust and decay ; 
Ruin and rust on the old manor clings. 

Crumbling away. 

Only my desolate chambers remain. 

Racked by the wind ; 
All down the years go I seeking in vain — 

Never to find. 

Gone is my love — my friend — Not a cry — 

Leaving life's race. 
Like the bright meteors that slip in the sky, 

Leap into space. 
7 



III. 

The shadows are long, I crouch by the fire^ 

Bitter with years, 
See all the shades of my former desire 

Ghostly through tears. 

Down the long hall to me, weary of play, 

Comes my young hound ; 
At my feet, tumbled, his dusty toy lay — 

What had he found? 

There in the firelight glitter of gold, 

God make me strong ! 
A little red slipper I trembling hold, 

Lost for so long. 

So musty and faded, mouldy with years, 

Where hidden and how ! 
Here, after searching, much passion and tears 

Come to me now. 
8 



" What is in hiding ? Oh, track me the way — 

Find her, my hound ! " 
Up the steep stairs he goes, eager for play, 

Gambolhng around. 

Up to the turret-room, close to the wall, 

Barking he goes ; 
Tears till the wainscoting crumbling falls 

Under his blows. 

Rotten with age, here a panel unseen 

Slips 'neath my hand ; 
Into the silence of love that has been, 

I shuddering stand. 

This is the secret hidden away. 

Built in the wall — 
Between the two houses a room cold and grey, 

Gloomy and small. 
9 



Huddled and crumbling, stretched on the ground, 

Mould and decay; 
Dust to dust mingled, the secret is found, 

So here they lay. 

In one embrace down the desolate years 

Over my head 
Did they lie smiling and know of my tears. 

Cruel and dead. 

Here the grey spider had circled them o'er, 

Hand to hand tied. 
In their clasped fingers lay hidden his store, 

There, too, he spied. 

I was the fool then who linked in that clasp 

Each skeleton hand ; 
Thus ! — will I be he who loosens the grasp ; 

How was it planned ? 
lo 



Here is a phial ; was death then so sweet, 

Honour or life ? 
This was the only way lovers could meet — 

She was a wife. 

Wrapped in death's silence, safe from my scorn, 

He was my friend ; 
It was his love whom I bore home that mom. 

His to the end. 

Was it the woman who plotted and spied, 

Using my heart 
Just for a stone there to step where the tide 

Kept them apart? 

Was he a coward, lying lowly to wait, 

Giving me blame? 
Vain do I strike him, avenging my fate. 

Cursed be his name ! 
II 



She was my love. Did she bid him beUeve 

I for his sake 
Cast away honour to stoop and deceive 

Bore him the stake? 

JHe was my friend, dare I doubt him and knov/ ? 

What if it be 
Nothing he knew of her coming — the blow 

That fell on me. 

Knowing his honour, it might be she came, 

Since he was still. 
What did she care for my torture or shame ? 

I served her will. 

Knowing his weakness under her eyes, 

Boldly she flew 
Into his arms, hushed his blame and surprise. 

If this be true. 

12 



Speak to me once, for God's sake, till I know 

What was the worst ! 
My friend, my beloved, did you both plan the 
blow — 

Made me accurst? 

Speak to me once, O dear voices, for I 

Wait to forgive ! 
Tell me your secret : the echoes reply — 
I alone live. 
• •••••■• 

Only the bark of my dog in the tower, 

Glad in his play ; 
" Red was her cloak, and her face like a flower ; " 

Hide it away ! 



13 



THE BANSHEE 



/^^ OD between us and all harm, 
^^ For I to-night have seen 
A banshee in the shadow pass 
Along the dark boreen. 



And as she went she keened and cried. 
And combed her long white hair, 

She stopped at Molly Reilly's door. 
And sobbed till midnight there. 

And is it for himself she moans, 

Who is so far away ? 
Or is it Molly Reilly's death 

She cries until the day ? 
14 



Now Molly thinks her man is gone 

A sailor lad to be ; 
She puts a candle at her door 

Each night for him to see. 

But he is off to Galway town, 
(And who dare tell her this ?) 

Enchanted by a woman's eyes, 
Half maddened by her kiss. 

So as we go by Molly's door 

We look towards the sea, 
And say, " May God bring home your lad, 

Wherever he may be." 

I pray it may be Molly's self 
The banshee keens and cries. 

For who dare breathe the tale to her, 
Be it her man who dies ? 
15 



But there is sorrow on the way, 
For I to-night have seen 

A banshee in the shadow pass 
Along the dark boreen. 



i6 



IRELAND 

"T^ WAS the dream of a God, 

And the mould of His hand, 
That you shook 'neath His stroke. 
That you trembled and broke 
To this beautiful land. 

Here He loosed from His hand 

A brown tumult of wings, 
Till the wind on the sea 
Bore the strange melody 

Of an island that sings. 

He made you all fair, 

You in purple and gold. 
You in silver and green. 
Till no eye that has seen 

Without love can behold. 
17 



I have left you behind 

In the path of the past, 
With the white breath of flowers, 
With the best of God's hours, 
I have left you at last. 



i8 



THE WIND ON THE HILLS 

r^ O not to the hills of Erin 

^-^ When the night winds are about, 

Put up your bar and shutter, 

And so keep the danger out. 

For the good- folk whirl within it. 
And they pull you by the hand. 
And they push you on the shoulder. 
Till you move to their command. 

And lo ! you have forgotten 
What you have known of tears, 
And you will not remember 
That the world goes full of years ; 
19 



A year there is a lifetime, 
And a second but a day, 
And an older world will meet you 
Each morn you come away. 

Your wife grows old with weeping. 
And your children one by one 
Grow grey with nights of watching. 
Before your dance is done. 

And it will chance some morning 
You will come home no more, 
Your wife sees but a withered leaf 
In the wind about the door. 

And your children will inherit 
The unrest of the wind. 
They shall seek some face elusive, 
And some land they never find. 
20 



When the wind is loud they sighing 
Go with hearts unsatisfied, 
For some joy they can't remember, 
For some memory denied. 

And all your children's children 
They cannot sleep or rest, 
When the wind is out in Erin, 
And the sun is in the West. 



21 



THE LONE OF SOUL 

'T^HE world has many lovers, but the one 

She loves the best is he within whose heart 
She but half- reigning queen and mistress is, 
Whose lonely soul forever stands apart. 

Who from her face will ever turn away. 
Who but half-hearing listens to her voice, 

Whose heart beats to her passion, but whose soul 
Within her presence never will rejoice. 

What land has let the dreamer from its gates, 
What face beloved hides from him away? 

A dreamer outcast from some world of dreams — 
He goes forever lonely on his way. 



The wedded body and the single soul, 

Beside his mate he shall most mateless stand, 

Forever to dream of that unseen face — 
Forever to sigh for that enchanted land. 

Like a great pine upon some alpine height. 
Torn by the winds and bent beneath the snow. 

Half overthrown by icy avalanche, 

The lone of soul throughout the world must go. 

Alone among his kind he stands alone, 

Torn by the passions of his own strange heart. 

Stoned by continual wreckage of his dreams, 
He in the crowd forever is apart. 

Like the great pine that rocking no sweet nest. 
Swings no young birds to sleep upon the bough. 

But where the raven only comes to croak — 
"There lives no man more desolate than thou ! " 
23 



So goes the lone of soul amid the world — 
No love upon his breast, with singing, cheers ; 

But sorrow builds her home within his heart, 
And nesting there will rear her brood of tears. 



24 



THE WHITE WITCH 

TTEAVEN help your home to-night 

MacCormac, for I know 
A white witch woman is your bride, 
You married for your woe. 

You thought her but a simple maid, 
That roamed the mountain side, 
She put the witch's glance on you. 
And so became your bride. 

But I have watched her close and long, 
And know her all too well, 
I never milked before her glance 
But evil luck befell. 

25 



Last week the cow beneath my hand 
Gave out no milk at all, 
I turned, and saw the pale-haired girl 
Lean laughing by the wall. 

"A little sup," she cried, " for me ; 
The day is hot and dry." 
"Begone," I said, " you witch's child." 
She laughed a loud good-bye. 

And when the butter in the churn 
Will never rise, I see 
Beside the door the white witch girl 
Has got her eyes on me. 

At dawn to-day I met her out 
Upon the mountain side, 
And all her slender finger-tips 
Were each a crimson dyed. 
26 



Now I had gone to seek a lamb 
The darkness sent astray, 
Sore for a lamb the dawning winds 
And sharp-beaked birds of prey. 

But when I saw the white witch maid 
With blood upon her gown, 
I said, " I 'm poorer by a lamb ; 
The witch has dragged it down." 

And " Why is this your hands so red 
All in the early day? " 
I seized her by the shoulder white, 
She pulled herself away. 

" It is the raddle on my hands, 
The raddle all so red, 
For I have marked MacCormac's sheep 
And little lambs," she said. 
27 



" And what is this upon your mouth, 
And on your cheek so white? " 
" Oh, it is but the berries' stain." 
She trembled in her fright. 

" I swear it is no berries' stain, 
Nor raddle all so red." 
I laid my hands about her throat. 
She shook me off, and fled. 

I had not gone to follow her 

A step upon the way. 

When came I to my own lost lamb, 

That dead and bloody lay. 

" Come back," I cried, " you witch's child, 
Come back and answer me." 
But no maid on the mountain side 
Could ever my eyes see. 
28 



I looked into the glowing east, 

I looked into the south, 

But did not see the slim young witch, 

With the crimson on her mouth. 

Now, though I looked both well and long 
And saw no woman there. 
Out from the bushes by my side 
There crept a snow-white hare. 

With knife in hand I followed it. 
By ditch, by bog, by hill. 
I said, " Your luck be in your feet, 
For I shall do you ill." 

I said, " Come, be you fox or hare. 
Or be you mountain maid, 
I '11 cut the witch's heart from you 
For mischief you have made." 
29 



She laid her spells upon my path, 
The brambles held and tore, 
The pebbles slipped beneath my feet, 
The briars wounded sore. 

And then she vanished from my eyes 
Beside MacCormac's farm, 
I ran to catch her in the house 
And keep the man from harm. 

She stood with him beside the fire, 
And when she saw my knife. 
She flung herself upon his breast. 
And pray'd he 'd save her life. 

" The woman is a witch," I cried, 
" So cast her off from you." 
*' She '11 be my wife to-day," he said, 
" Be careful what you do ! " 
30 



"The woman is a witch," I said. 
He laughed both loud and long. 
She laid her arms about his neck ; 
Her laugh was like a song. 

"The woman is a witch," he said. 
And laughed both long and loud. 
She bent her head upon her hand ; 
Her hair was like a cloud. 

I said, " See blood upon her mouth 
And on each finger-tip ! " 
He said, " I see a pretty maid 
With a rose upon her lip." 

He took her slender hand in his 
To kiss the stain away. 
Oh, well she cast her spell on him ; 
What could I do but pray ? 
31 



*' May heaven guard your house to-night," 
I whisper as I go, 

*' For you have won a witch for bride. 
And married for your woe." 



32 



ALL SOULS' NIGHT 

[There is a superstition in some parts of Ireland that 
the dead are allowed to return to earth on the 2nd of 
November (All Souls' Night), and the peasantry leave 
food and fire for their comfort, and set a chair by the 
hearth for their resting before they themselves retire to 
bed.] 

/^ MOTHER, mother, I swept the hearth, I 
^^ set his chair and the white board spread, 
I prayed for his coming to our kind Lady when 

Death's sad doors would let out the dead ; 
A strange wind rattled the window-pane, and 

down the lane a dog howled on. 
I called his name and the candle flame burnt 

dim, pressed a hand the door-latch upon. 
Deelish ! Deelish ! my woe forever that I could 

not sever coward flesh from fear. 
I call'd his name and the pale Ghost came ; but 

I was afraid to meet my dear. 
3 33 



mother, mother, in tears I checked the sad 

hours past of the year that 's o'er. 
Till by God's grace I might see his face and hear 

the sound of his voice once more ; 
The chair I set from the cold and wet, he took 

when he came from unknown skies 
Of the land of the dead, on my bent brown head 

I felt the reproach of his saddened eyes ; 

1 closed my lids on my heart's desire, crouched 

by the fire, my voice was dumb. 
At my clean-swept hearth he had no mirth, and 

at my table he broke no crumb. 
Deehsh ! Deelish ! my woe forever that I could 

not sever coward flesh from fear. 
His chair put aside when the young cock cried, 

and I was afraid to meet my dear. 



34 



THE ONE FORGOTTEN 

A SPIRIT speeding down on All Souls' eve 
From the wide gates of that mysterious 
shore 
Where sleep the dead, sung softly and yet sweet. 
" So gay a wind was never heard before," 
The old man said, and listened by the fire ; 
And " 'Tis the souls that pass us on their way," 
The young maids whispered, clinging side by 

side. 
So left their glowing nuts awhile to pray. 

Still the pale spirit, singing through the night. 
Came to this window, looking from the dark 
Into the room ; then passing to the door 
Where crouched the whining dog, afraid to bark, 
35 



Tapped gently, without answer, pressed the latch, 
Pushed softly open, and then tapped once more. 
The maidens cried, when seeking for the ring — 
*' How strange a wind is blowing on the door ! " 

And said the old man, crouching to the fire, 

" Draw close your chairs, for colder falls the night ; 

Push fast the door, and pull the curtains to, 

For it is dreary in the moon's pale light." 

And then his daughter's daughter with her hand 

Passed over salt and clay to touch the ring. 

Said low, " The old hath need of fire, but the 

young 
Have that within their heart to flame and sting." 

And then the spirit, moving from her place, 
Touched there a shoulder, whispered in each ear. 
Bent by the old man, nodding in his chair, 
But no one heeded her, or seemed to hear. 
36 



Then crew the black cock, and so weeping sore 
She went alone into the night again, 
And said the grey- beard, reaching for his glass, 
** How sad a wind blows on the window pane." 

And then from dreaming the long dreams of age 
He woke, remembering, and let fall a tear. 
" Alas, I have forgot — and have you gone ? — 
I set no chair to welcome you, my dear." 
And said the maidens, laughing in their play, 
'How he goes groaning, wrinkled-faced, and 

hoar. 
He is so old, and angry with his age, 
Hush ! hear the banshee sobbing past the door." 



37 



THE FETCH: A BALLAD 

" T T THAT makes you so late at the trysting ? 

What caused you so long to be ? 
For a weary time I have waited 
From the hour you promised me.'* 

" I would I were here by your side, love, 
Full many an hour ago, 
For a thing I passed on the road-way 
All mournful and so slow." 

" And what have you passed on the road-side 
That kept you so long and late? " 
" It is weary the time behind me 
Since I left my father's gate. 
38 



" As I hastened on in the gloaming 
By the road to you to-night, 
There I saw the corpse of a young maid 
All clad in a shroud of white." 

" And was she some comrade cherished, 
Or was she a sister dead, 
That you left thus your own true lover 
Till the trysting hour had fled? " 

" Oh, I would that I could discover, 
But her face was turned away. 
And I knew I must turn and follow 
Wherever her resting lay." 

" And did it go up by the town path. 
Did it go down by the lake ? 
I know there are but the two churchyards 
Where a corpse its rest may take." 
39 



" They did not go up by the town path, 
Nor stopped by the lake their feet, 
They buried the corpse all silently 
Where the four cross-roads do meet." 

" And was it so strange a sight then, 
That you should go like a child. 
Thus to leave me wait all forgotten. 
By a passing sight beguiled? " 

" 'T was my name that I heard them whisper, 
Each mourner that passed by me ; 
And I had to follow their footsteps. 
Though their faces I could not see.'* 

" And right well I should like to know now 
Who this fair young maid might be. 
So you take my hand, my own true love, 
And hasten along with me." 
40 



He did not go down by the lake side, 
He did not go by the town, 
But carried her to the four cross-roads, 
And he there did set her down. 

" Now, I see no track of a foot here, 
I see no mark of a spade. 
And I know right well in this white road 
That never a grave was made." 

And he took her hand in his right hand. 
And led her to town away, 
And there he questioned the good old priest 
Did he bury a maid that day. 

And he took her hand in his right hand, 
Down to the church by the lake. 
And there he questioned the fair young priest 
If a maiden her life did take. 
41 



But neither had heard of a new grave 
In all the parish around, 
And no one could tell of a young maid 
Thus put in unholy ground. 

So he loosed her hand from his hand. 
And turned on his heel away, 
And " I know now you are false," he said, 
** From the lie you told to-day." 

And she said, " Alas ! what evil thing 
Did to-night my senses take? " 
She knelt her down by the water- side 
And wept as her heart would break. 

And she said, " Oh, what fairy sight then 
Was it thus my grief to see ? 
I will sleep well 'neath the still water, 
Since my love has turned from me." 
42 



And her love he went to the north land, 
And far to the south went he, 
And her distant voice he still could hear 
Call weeping so bitterly. 

And he could not rest in the daytime. 
He could not sleep in the night, 
So he hastened back to the old road, 
With the try sting- place in sight. 

What first he heard was his own love's name, 
And keening both loud and long, 
What first he saw was his love's dear face. 
At the head of a mourning throng. 

And all white she was as the dead are. 
And never a move made she. 
But passed him by on her lone black pall. 
Still sleeping so peacefully. 
43 



And all cold she was as the dead are, 
And never a word she spake, 
When they said, " Unholy is her grave 
For she her life did take." 

And silent she was as the dead are. 

And never a cry she made. 

When there came, more sad than the keening, 

The ring of a digging spade. 

No rest she had in the old town church, 
No grave by the lake so sweet, 
They buried her in unholy ground. 
Where the four cross-roads do meet. 



44 



NEAR THE FORUM OF TRAJAN 

TN Rome, as I look from my lattice 
•^ And lean to the night, 
Where the living sleep, still as the dead are 
All in the sunlight. 

The dead are awake 'mid our resting 

Beneath the pale moon. 
I arise and will walk with their numbers. 

Dawn rises so soon. 

I hear the bell voices together 

Crash into strange sound — 
*' I, Trajan, am cold ; " "I, Aurelius, 

Lie stiff in the ground." 
45 



" Grey Cassius sleeps long, and grim Brutus, 

Proud Caesar is dead '' ; 
Thus the voices of time in their singing 

Roll over my head. 

O spirits that throng me and whisper 

In desolate street, 
O souls that so follow and mock me, 

You laugh and repeat : 

" Who is he who shouts into the silence 

More lone than us dead. 
Who says he would walk with our numbers 

With echoing tread ? 

" Who would join in a world so immortal 

Yet touches no hand. 
Why comes he the child of the sunlight 

To our haunted land ? 
46 



" Would he know of our power and ambition, 

The worth of it all? 
Let him seek the gold palace of Nero, 

And read on its wall. 

" Let him look for our loves and desires 

In the palace of Kings, 
Then bid him go hence with his living 

That tortures and stings. 

" He is the ghost that would haunt us 

With dreams of past light ; 
Drive him back to his kind in the sunshine, 

And leave us the night." 



47 



AT POMPEII 

\ T Pompeii I heard a woman laugh, 

And turned to find the reason of her mirth, 
Saw but the silent figure of a girl 
That centuries had mummied into earth : 

The running figure of a little maid 
With face half hidden in her shielding arm, 
Silent, yet screaming, yea, in ev'ry limb, 
The cruel torture of her dread alarm. 

At Pompeii I heard a maiden shriek 
All down the years from out the distant past ; 
Blind in the awful darkness still she runs ; 
Death in the mould of fear her form has cast. 
48 



A little maid once soft and sweet and white, 
Full of the morning's hope, and love and joy. 
That Nature, moving to the voice of Time, 
Shook her dark wings to wither and destroy. 

At Pompeii I saw a woman bend 
Above this dead, pronounce an epitaph ; 
The mother of a child, it may have been. 
Oh horrible ! I heard a woman laugh. 



49 



*M HAVE BEEN TO HY-BRASAIL"^ 

T HAVE been to Hy-Brasail, 
-^ And the Land of Youth have seen, 
Much laughter have I heard there, 
And birds amongst the green. 

Many have I met there, 
But no one ever old, 
Yet I have left Hy-Brasail 
Before my time was told. 

Love have I known too. 
As I shall meet no more; 
Lost is the magic island, 
And I cannot find the shore. 

1 One of the Enchanted Isles, sometimes seen in the 
western seas from the shores of Ireland. 

50 



Since I have left Hy-Brasail 
Age has encompassed me, 
She plucks me by the shoulder 
And will not let me be. 

Her face is grey and mournful, 
Her hand is hard and cold, 
Yet I have left Hy-Brasail 
Before my time was told. 



S« 



A CRY IN THE WORLD 

TV^INE, kine, in the meadows, why do you low 

so piteously? 
High is the grass to your knees and wet with the 

dew of the morn, 
Sweet with the perfume of honey, and breath of 

the clover blossoms ; 
But the sad-eyed kine on the hillside see no joy 

in the day newborn. 
" Man, man has bereft us and taken our young 

ones from us ; 
Thus we call in the eve, call through night to the 

break of day, 

52 



That they may hear and answer ; so we find no 

peace in the meadows. 
Our hearts are sad with hunger for the love man 

stole away." 



Bird, bird, on the tree-top, my heart doth sigh 

for thy music ; 
In the glad air of morn and promise of summer, 

rejoice ! 
Thy head droops low on thy breast, half hid in 

thy ruffled feathers, 
The grove is lone for thy singing, O bird of the 

silver voice ! 
" Man, man has bereft me, stolen my nestlings 

from me. 
Wrecked the soft home we built 'mid the budding 

blossoms of spring. 
53 



My mate's brown wings grow red in vain beating 

the bars of her prison ; 
With heart so full of longing and mourning, how 

can I sing?" 



Seal, in the cliff's shadow, why are thine eyes so 

mournful ? 
Come from the gloom and the echo of the sea's 

sighs in the cave, 
Sink down into deeper waters 'mid the hidden 

flowers of the ocean, 
Or seek the splash and sparkle 'neath the snowy 

break of the wave. 
" Man, man has bereft me, robbed me of those 

my loved ones ,* 
Alone, I find no gladness ; alone, where is joy for 

me 

54 



In the silvery flash of the fish or the wonderful 

gardens of coral ? 
My eyes grow dim with watching the desolate 

waste of the sea ! " 



Woman, king of the world is the babe you hush 

with sobbing, 
King of all that is living in air or sea, or on 

land, 
Therefore why do you kiss with lips that are 

dumb with sorrow ? 
Your tear-drops falling cold have chilled the little 

hand. 
This is the soul's proud right, the earth given into 

his keeping ; 
And all that lives thereon must come to his feet a 

slave. 

55 



Mother, why do you flee with haggard eyes in the 



morning? 



To answer with white face hid in the grass of a 
baby's grave. 



56 



ECLIPSE 

QO for the luxury of the flesh, wrap it in fur of 

^^ fox that it be warm, 

In the bear's coat sheltering its nakedness from 

storm. 
Give wine for its hot veins, fame for its throne, 

and laughter for its lips. 
All ends in one eclipse, 
Sunshine or snows. 
We gain a grave, and afterwards — God knows. 

Bemoan beside your fire your own particular 

fate, that evil wind 
That blows for you no mercy; think till the 

wearied mind 

57 



Doth ease itself in tears, or reason from her high 

throne sHps. 
So ends hfe in eclipse, 
However the wind blows. 
We gain a grave, and afterwards — God knows. 

"And wherefore is all this?" you question me, 
" this weighing of rich and poor, 

Of many tears and laughter of which no mind 
hath cure? " 

Nought save 't were thinking for a winter's night, 
till my mind trips 

O'er thought and finds eclipse 

For smiles and woes, 

And I a grave, and afterwards — God knows. 



58 



REMORSE 

" TT THERE have you been, my pale, pale son, 

all night in the winter storm ? " 
(Hark ! the joy-bells chime in their passionate 

rhyme.) 
" O mother ! the bird is sheltered, the beast 

housed warm — 
And they, with their bodies' comfort, are thus 

content ; 
But I, in debt for a soul, have the long night 

spent 
In shunning the question of God, till the spirit 

within 
Fought mad through the human walls of my 

quivering skin 

59 



At its kindred passion without in the howling 

night. 
* Where is thy brother? ' Oh, question not giving 

respite. 
O mother ! what do they answer, those lips, 

blood red, 
Of nature in sport with her thousand deaths ? I 

questioned. 
'Send me an answer.' She spoke not, the 

Mother of Death. 
Life rocked in her restless arms, while she sucked 

at her breath — 
(* Where? ' the bells cry, and I dare not reply.) " 

" What would you tell me, my child, my child, 

that once slept a babe on my breast? " 

(Do the death-bells toll for a passing soul?) 

*' O mother ! my friend is dead, now I stand 

confessed. 

60 



I can strike the stone into flame, make the dark 

give light, 
But I cannot give back to the tiniest bird its 

flight. 
I can easily shut life's gates, but God alone holds 

the key ; 
And all the darkness of night cannot shelter me. 
For my friend, you understand, my friend is 

dead. 
So people will pity the tears that my hot eyes 

shed. 
No voice to cry ' Guilty,' not seeing my brain's 

red shame — 
Not knowing that * Dead,' in my heart, hath 

another name. 
He wondered the world should plot him such 

mischief and pain ; 
Knew not that his world was worked from one 

jealous man's brain, 
6i 



Whose hands set in motion the wheels, laid his 

heart on the rack, 
Followed ever with murmurs of doubt on his 

fortunate track. 
Till the world, more eager to listen to evil than 

good. 
Caught my whispers to hurl them back on the 

man as he stood. 
Crept scandal, with listening ears, to his keyhole, 

supplied 
Quick rumour, with news for the keen appetites 

so denied ; 
And hungry excitement kept hard on his quick- 
silver feet 
Till men, self-comparing, and finding comparing 

were sweet, 
Would say, *Look at this man,' — meaning, 

look what a contrast there be, — 

Or, * So has he sinned, see to him (so your gaze 

avoid me).' 

62 



Foolish world, as if men were not judged, by 

each different mind, 
By God's justice, not that of the world's great 

classing of kind : 
'This is right, that is wrong,* as though minds 

were all made on one plan. 
Leaving nought to inheritance, will-power, or 

surroundings of man. 
He is dead, mother, dead; I his friend might 

have made his earth fair, 
But I crept like a scorpion to sting all his hopes 

to despair : 
Robbed his body of this world's joys, and his 

soul of the hope 
Of that other that sings through the air at the 

pull of the rope. 
Till my mad passion swells at the tongues of the 

beUs." 



63 



" Hush thee and listen, my son, my son, for the 

bells are the voice of love." 
(All the things He made live, can their Father 

forgive.) 
" O mother ! a sinner's cry may be heard 

above. 
And so, if the dead forgive, then my dying 

breath 
Will plead that a sad soul pass through the gates 

of death. 
Where it stood outside so weary, afraid to call, 
For that pale ghost standing within in his funeral 

pall. 
Awaiting my tears that would wash his stained 

record white. 
And I could not weep; but, mother, I weep 

to-night." 
(Peace, the bells sing, is God's reckoning.) 



64 



SORROW 

TNTO my heart, Sorrow, you found a way; 

Mine enemy, it was bitter to weep and pray ; 
I gave you tears for drinking. 

And heart- sick sobs, 
With brain too sick for thinking. 

And to the throbs 
Of my sad heart I hushed you till I crushed you 
Into rest for all your thorns. 

Into my heart. Sorrow, too oft you came ; 
Mine enemy, I heed not nor dread your name. 
Frozen the stream of your quaffing, 

And now your rest 
Is broken with my laughing. 

To my breast 
In these mine arms I hush you till I crush you 
Into rest for all your thorns. 
5 65 



A FAIRY PRINCE 

"pRINCE CHARMING, when the wizard's 

wand 
Had wrecked for aye my fairyland ; 
Had razed my castles to the earth, 
And killed my child's heart with his mirth ; 
Then weeds grew rank where flowers had been. 
And slow snakes flashed their length between. 

Prince Charming, when the darkness came. 
With many tears I called your name, 
And *' Give me back my fairyland ! '* 
You took me by the willing hand 
Ere day had lit the dawn's pale flame ; 
You left me when the darkness came. 
66 



Prince Charming, spite of wizard's wand. 
You said you 'd find my fairyland. 
I open eyes too sad for tears 
Nought but an open grave appears. 



(^1 



THE FAIRIES 

'T^HE fairies, the fairies, the mischief-loving 
fairies, 
Have stolen my loved one, my darling, and my 
dear ; 
With charms and enchantments they lured and 
waylaid him. 
So my love cannot comfort and my presence 
cannot cheer. 

The fairies, the fairies, I '11 love no more the 
fairies ; 
I '11 never sweep the hearth for them or care 
the fairy thorn, 

68 



I '11 skim no more the yellow cream nor leave the 
perfumed honey ; 

But I '11 drive the goats for pasture to their 
greenest rath each morn. 

With Ave, and Ave, and many a Paternoster, 
Within their magic circle I '11 tell my beads for 
you; 
My prayers be sharp as arrows to pierce their 
soulless bosoms 
Till they come with loud sorrow to tell me that 
they rue. 

My darling, my darling, what glamour is upon you 

That you find for your gaze satisfaction and 

content 

In the charms of that colleen, with her black 

snaky ringlets, 

Her red lips contemptuous, and her gloomy 

brows so bent? 

69 



The fairies, the fairies, from her blue eyes were 
peeping; 
They blew her hair about you, so you were lost, 
my dear. 
With their charms and enchantments they lured 
and waylaid you. 
So my love cannot comfort and my presence 
cannot cheer. 



70 



A ROSE WILL FADE 

TTOU were always a dreamer, Rose, red Rose, 
As you swung on your perfumed spray. 

Swinging, and all the world was true, 

Swaying, what did it trouble you? 
A rose will fade in a day. 

Why did you smile to his face, red Rose, 
As he whistled across your way ? 

And all the world went mad for you. 

All the world it knelt to woo. 

A rose will bloom in a day. 

I gather your petals, Rose, red Rose, 

The petals he threw away. 
And all the world derided you ; 
Ah ! the world, how well it knew 

A rose will fade in a day. 
71 



LITTLE WHITE ROSE 

T ITTLE white rose that I loved, I loved, 

Roisin ban, Roisin ban I 
Fair my bud as the morning's dawn. 
I kissed my beautiful flower to bloom. 
My heart grew glad for its rich perfume — 
Little white rose that I loved. 



Little white rose that I loved grew red, 
Roisift ruadf Roisin ruadl 

Passionate tears I wept for you. 

Love is more sweet than the world's fame, 

I dream you back in my heart the same, 
Little white rose that I loved ! 
72 



Little white rose that I loved grew black, 
Roisin dub, Roisifi dub / 

So I knew not the heart of you. 

Lost in the world's alluring fire, 

I cry in the night for my heart's desire. 
Little white rose that I loved ! 



73 



INNOCENCE 

TT /"HITE rose must die all in the youth and 

beauty of the year, 
Though nightingale should sing the whole night 

through, 
Though summer breezes woo, 
She will not hear. 

Too delicate for the sun's kiss so hot and pas- 
sionate, 

Or for the rude caresses of the wind, 

She drooped and pined — 

They mourned too late. 

Birds carol clear : 

" Summer has come," they say. 

" O joy of living on a summer's day ! " 

White rose must die, all in the youth and beauty 
of the year. 

74 



SPRING SONG — TO IRELAND 

T T TEEP no more, heart of my heart, no more ! 
The night has passed and the dawn is 
here, 
The cuckoo calls from the budding trees, 
And tells us that Spring is near. 

Sorrow no more, beloved, no more ; 

For see, sweet emblem of hope untold ! 
The tears that soft on the shamrocks fall 

There turn to blossoms of gold. 

Winter has gone with his blighting breath. 
No more to chill thee with cold or fear. 

The brook laughs loud in its liberty. 
Green buds on the hedge appear. 
IS 



Weep no more, life of my heart, no more ! 

The birds are carolling sweet and clear ; 
The warmth of Summer is in the breeze, 

And the Spring — the Spring is here. 



1^ 



LAST EVE 

T AST eve as I leaned from my lattice, looked 
out at the night, 
Where the gray of the sea misted into the gray 
of the skies, 

Came with quick beating of wings and long, 
sorrowful cries, 
Beautiful birds, and I wept, being blind with 
their white. 

How the wind's strong invisible hands beat on 
doorway and pane, 
And the sea seemed to writhe and roar in an 
anguish of thought ! 

n 



How the moon's frightened face looking down 
seemed to shun what she sought, 
Hid so pale in cloud fingers to weep in a passion 
of rain ! 

They had come in the night, and the storm, wing- 
ing back to my breast 
These hopes that were hopeless, these dreams 

that were ever as dreams ; 
Rending my heart with sharp beaks and their 
passionate screams, 
Leashing my soul with the storm from its haven 
of rest. 

Night long did I put them away, did they turn 
again. 

Till the tumultuous waves bore them out in 
their creepy recess, 
78 



Tossed them back on the reef with a deadly 
pretence of caress; 
Flung up by the hand of the sea, beaten back by 
the lash of the rain. 

White birds, it is over and done, your last pas- 
sion has paled ; 
The world has no place for your flight nor my 

heart for your screams. 
O hopes that were hopeless, sweet dreams 
that were ever as dreams. 
Let go ! get back to your graves, you have fought 
and have failed. 



79 



IN SOUTHERN SEAS 

TN southern seas we sailed, my love and I, 

In southern seas. 
Death joined no chorus as the waves swept by, 
No storm hid in the breeze. 
Low keeled our boat until her white wings dipped 

half wet with spray, 
And seeking gulls tossed on the passing wave 

laughed on our way, 
The rhyme of sound, the harmony of souls — of 

silence, too ; 
Your silence held my thoughts, my love, as mine 

of you ; 
The winged whispering wind that blew our sails 

was summer sweet — 
I found my long- sought paradise crouched at 

thy feet. 

80 



In northern seas I weep alone, alone, 

In winter seas. 

Death's hounds are on the waves, with many 
moans, 

Death's voice comes with the breeze ; 

My helpless boat, rocked in the wind, obeys no 
steadfast hand, 

Her swinging helm and lashing sheet have lost 
my weak command ; 

The shrieking sea-birds seek the sheltering shore, 

The writhing waves leap upward, and their hoar. 

Strong hands tear at the timbers of my shudder- 
ing craft. 

I cry in vain, the Fates have seen and laughed, 

Time and the world have stormed my summer 
sea — 

I ate my fruit, the serpent held the tree. 



8i 



AVE MARIA 

T N the darkness of the night I awake and weep, 
'*" Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 
Dread shapes crowd around me, I cannot sleep, 
Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 

Love that must separate, Death that takes all, 

(Ave Maria, hear my cry !) 
Comes in the darkness with shuddering footfall, 

Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 

Stern seems the face of the Lord and turned 
away, 
(Ave Maria, hear my cry !) 
For my prayerless night and my deedless day, 
Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 
82 



Thou art meek and full of mercy, pray for me, 

Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 
He will listen to my prayer for love of thee, 

Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 

Say that the world's dust was in my eyes, 
Ave Maria, hear my prayer ! 

Say that my eyes were deaf with city cries, 
Ave Maria, hear my prayer ! 

Say that man and beast so questioned, 

(Ave Maria, hear my cry !) 
That on the cross He hung beloved but dead, 

Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 

In the darkness of the night I awake and weep, 

Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 
All that I am not wakes my soul from sleep, 

Ave Maria, hear my cry ! 



83 



THE FATE OF THE THREE SONS OF 
UlSNEACH AND DEIRDRE, DAUGH- 
TER OF FEILIM 

TTTOE to thee, daughter of Feilim ! woe to 

thee, Deirdr^, 
Slain for thy sake were the three sons of Uis- 

neach, and red 
Grew the broad plains of Ulster, on Connaught 

unnumbered the dead. 
Woe to thee, Deirdr^ ! — Deirdr6, daughter of 

Feilim. 
Smiled the sweet babe in the face of the Druid 

and his warning. 
Held her young mouth for his kissing, and wept 

at his scorning. 

84 



" King Connor, there 's woe for thy pity, this 

woman-child born, 
This bud of sweet promise will wound herself red 

with her thorn. 

King, in the future I prophesy evil before thee, 
With the Hfe of this child. Wilt thou listen and 

heed to my story? 
The breath of a babe ? or Connaught and Ulster 

in sorrow? 
Let her be slain. Who remembers the deed on 

to-morrow? " 
A dozen swords spring from their ticabbards and 

flash fierce and bright. 
The child for the fair steel stretched out her 

small hands in delight. 
Connor laughed : " Let her live, and if beauty 

should grant her a dower, 

1 will wed. Toast your queen, ere I hide her 

from fate in a tower." 



So the child prattled and grew fair as a wild 

flower uncurled, 
Till the maid's reason began to wonder how 

narrow her world, 
What the great walls of the court hid from her 

inquisitive view, 
What perfumed the wind from the west, and 

where went the finch when he flew. 
Many sweet tales told her nurse, that fed her 

romantic young brain, 
Tin sleeping were sweet for its dreams, and 

waking was dreaming again. 
What if their lone tower was built on a high rock 

right out in the sea, 
Like the rock in that fountain of hers? or per- 
haps it might be 
The world were a garden of flowers. Comes a 

prince in a boat — 
That dream-prince of hers — (thrice a raven, 

with threatening note, 
86 



Flaps his wings) — or mayhap on an elf steed 

he 'd ride. 
High walls could not stay him. She leaned from 

her casement and cried : 
" Look, nurse, they have slain a young deer in 

the court-yard below, 
And the raven awaits them. My prince shall 

have skin like yon snow. 
As red as that blood be his lip, and his hair like 

the raven's black wing." 
" Hush, dearest ! " the woman replied. " Hush, 

dearest, and think on the King." 
" Oh, nurse, were the pretty flower safe to live 

on the ocean's broad breast? 
Would the little wren fly for her home and her 

mate to the eagle's cold nest? " 
" Peace, childie ! last night the wolf-hound 

howled long 'neath thy window-siU there." 
" Sweet nurse ! dost thou know of a youth, so 

pure-skinned, with raven dark hair? " 
87 



" Peace, child ! know the death-watch ticked 

night long at thy own bed-head, 
And a cock crew thrice out of hours." " Oh, 

nurse ! and with lips blood-red?" 
" Darhng, in Connor's famed court, I 've heard 

of as fair a young knight." 
*' Oh, nurse ! I 've loved him in dreams. Wilt 

bring him but once to my sight? " 

Woe to thee, fair child of sorrow. Love laughs 

at high walls in derision. 
Woe to Naois and Ainl6 and Ardan, who rescued 

thee safe from thy prison. 
Into the mouth of the lion they flew from the 

lion pursuing, 
For Scotia's king saw the bride's face — loved 

the beauty that v/as her undoing, 
And many were slain for her sake, till the brave 

sons of Ulster have spoken : 
S8 



" Lo, King ! it were sad, for one maid, that our 

armies were scattered and broken." 
And Connor, aloud, to those chiefs, bade the 

three sons of Uisneach return — 
Forgiven, come home to their land. But his 

heart was still hot with the burn 
Of the shame of the maiden's desertion, and her 

scorn of a king and his glory ; 
He thought that the lips of the world must be 

glad on the theme of his story. 
Tricked by a girl ! how his pride turned the 

word, till Hate made it, in growing, 
Fly back to the Druid and his warning. So this 

was the seed of his sowing. 
He half thought it was writ on his brow, that the 

people were sick of their laughter ; 
He turned the stone in his sleeve : " Let them 

laugh ; he laughs best who laughs after." 
So Eogan, at word of the King, when he heard 

that the three youths had landed, 
89 



Was to welcome the brothers to Erinn, outspoken 

to seem and free-handed — 
"But," this in a whisper aside, "slay them, each 

man, without warning." 
So by the sword of a traitor fell Ainl^, Ardan, and 

Naois, for scorning 
Of a king by the daughter of Feilim. And 

Deirdr^ was brought to King Connor. 
What heeded she of his laughter, the sneers or 

the slights put upon her? 
Since Naois was dead, her beloved, the rose on 

her cheek paled with sorrow. 
And laughter was dead on her lips, only tears 

were her own night and morrow. 
Till the King a new vengeance had planned to 

wake her strange listlessness to life : 
To Eogan, the slayer of Naois, he gave the sad 

Deirdr^ to wife. 
And Deirdr6 smiled once in his face as she 

mounted the steed by his side, 
90 



That was chafing to bear her away and bring the 

false Eogan his bride. 
Never such quarry was seen as Connor's men 

hunted that day, 
Never such laughter was heard as they followed 

up valley and brae, 
For Connor the King for his vengeance was 

spending his courser's hot breath. 
But Deirdr^, the daughter of Feihm, was racing 

her brown steed for Death. 
Woe to thee, daughter of FeiUm ! woe to thee, 

Deirdr^ ! 
Slain for thy sake were the fair sons of Uisneach, 

and red 
Grew the broad plains of Ulster, on Connaught 

unnumbered the dead — 
Woe to thee, Deirdr^, Deirdr^, daughter of 

Feilim ! 



91 



THE BRIDAL OF LADY AIDEEN 

/^ LADY AIDEEN, will you wed with me, 

^^^ wed with me in the early morning? 

A silken gown for your body's wear, a golden 
crown for your hair's adorning. 

(One flirting magpie on the quicken tree flies 
from his perching 'twixt you and me.) 
The proudest colt that my land has fed 
For you shall chafe first harnessed, 
And for your bidding six maidens be. 
(O bird of sorrow, 'tween hope and me !) 

Earl Desmond, I am loath to speak, loath to 

speak for your true heart's sorrow, 

1 '11 be a bride at no man's altar, though I be a 

wedded bride to-morrow. 
92 



(Death's hand closes on the digging spade ; rest 
forever 'neath the yew-tree's shade.) 
Six slow steeds will my body bear, 
To fret or prance they will not care, 
And no handmaiden with me would dwell. 
(Hark ! the tolUng of the passing bell.) 



O Lady Aideen, will you name for me, name for 

me who won my refusing? 
Who hath the singing and all the sun on earth for 

ever and I the losing? 
(Oh, the plough horses going off from me, sor- 
row and tears will my harvest be.) 
My arms were strong for your woman's fear ; 
My heart were weak for your loving, dear. 
What can he give whom you will not name ? 
(Clings a winding-sheet by the candle's 
flame.) 

93 



O Earl Desmond, be you brave for sorrow, brave 

for sorrow which is no man's shielding ; 
Love has wept till his eyes grew blind, and vic- 
tory 's not in a weapon's yielding. 
(Six black horses awaiting me, the ring of the 
spade has ceased to be.) 
My lord is named with a bated breath, 
Whom hope calls " Life " and despair names 

"Death." 
And, oh, his love no world can kill ! 
(The banshee waits on the window-sill.) 



94 



THE FLIGHT OF THE WILD GEESE 

TT 7RAPT in the darkness of the night, 
Gathering in silence on the shore, 

Wild geese flown from hiding on the hills 

(Hark ! the wolf-hound ; thrice he howled be- 
fore), 

Wild geese with forest leaves tangled in their 
hair. 

Is that blood on the heaving breasts of some, 

Or dull red clay from fox-deserted lair? 

Why thus so stealthy do they come ? 

Wild geese, women's arms round you in the 
darkness ; 

Women's hearts forbid to cry though they break ; 

Little children must not sob in their kissing ; 
95 



"Brother, forever? O hush thee, for God's 
sake ! " 

Wild geese with fierce eyes, deathless hope in 
your hearts. 

Stretching your strong white wings eager for your 
flight. 

These women's eyes will watch your swift return- 
ing. 

(Thrice the banshee cried in the stormy night.) 



Flinging the salt from their wings, and despair 

from their hearts. 
They arise on the breast of the storm with a cry 

and are gone. 
When will you come home, wild geese, with your 

thousand strong? 
(The wolf-dog loud in the silence of night howls 

on.) 

96 



Not the fierce wind can stay your return or 

tumultuous sea, 
Nor the freedom France gives to your feet on 

her luxuriant shore. 
No smiles for your love like the tears of your 

sorrowing land, 
Only Death in his reaping could make you return 

no more. 
White birds, white birds, I dream of that glad 

home-coming ; 
Though human eyes could not mark your silent 

flight, 
Women lie face down with clenched hands in 

the sea. 
(Thrice the banshee cries in the stormy night.) 



97 



OUT WITH THE WORLD 

T'M out with all the world to-day, 
So all the world to me is gray, 
Ah me ! the bonny world. 
Glad birds are building in the tree, 
For them I have no sympathy ; 
From out the grove a thrush pipes clear, 
I have no wish his song to hear ; 
From tangled boughs that young buds share 
With last year's leaves, a startled hare 
A moment peeps and then away ; 
I have no laughter for his play. 
For all the sunny sky is gray. 
The weariest I am to-day 
In all the weary world. 
98 



Perchance to-morrow's hidden store 
May bring my heart's content once more, 
The sweet young spring comes very fair 
With summer's breath and golden air; 
And I may think there cannot be 
A maid so blessed on land or sea. 
I 'm out, though, with the world to-day, 
So all the world to me is gray, 
Ah me ! the bonny world. 



99 



THE LITTLE BROTHER 

/^ BROTHER, brother, come down to the 

^^^ crags by the bay, 

Come down to the caves where I play ; 
For, oh ! I saw on the rocks, asleep, 
A fair mermaid, and the slow waves creep 

To bear her away, away. 

O brother, brother, come quick till you laugh 
with me. 

For no mermaid so fair is she. 

But the little lass that I saw last night 

(I hid in the shade, you stood in the light), 

And she weeping so bitterly. 



O brother, brother, I watched her through the 

day, 
Saw her hair grow jewelled with spray ; 

Once her cheek was brushed by a gull's wet 

wing. 
And a finch flew down on her hand to sing, 
And was not afraid to stay. 

brother, brother, will she soon awakened be ? 

1 would that she laugh with me. 

She sleeps, and the world so full of sound — 
She 's so deaf, like the dead that are under the 
ground. 
That I laugh and laugh to see. 



loi 



LOVE IN MY ARMS LIES SLEEPING 

T) OSES red for the fair young head to weave 

a crown, 
Let them be half blown, 
For a rose in June it will fade too soon to gold 

and brown. 
For thee my own 
The fairest blossoms in all love's land, for that 

small hot hand, 
And a bird to sing all the sweet day through. 
Lest fear should wake in the heart of you. 
And I hear my own heart's beating ; 
Wild roses red for the fair gold head, 
Love in my arms lies sleeping. 

I02 



Lilies fair for the wind-blown hair, 

It were better so 

Than a blossom dead, 

And a rose's thorn; but the fresh glad mom 

brings breath of snow. 
Hath summer fled ? 

Hath winter come when I dreamt it spring? 
Is my sweet bird dead that he does not sing? 
I hear but my heart's sad weeping. 
Loose and cold is thy soft hands' hold ; 
Love in my arms lies sleeping. 



103 



A WAYWARD ROSE 

■jVyflSCHIEVOUS rose from the rose-tree 
swaying, 

Can I not bind thee nor hold thee ? 

Can I not weave thee nor fold thee 
In with thy sisters to staying? 
Vain is my passion or praying, 
Rose from the rose-tree swaying. 

Wayward sweet rose from the rose-tree swinging, 

Can I not pass thee, forget thee ? 

Can I not see to regret thee ? 
In — 'mid thy kindred's close ringing, 
Out — to my heart she comes winging. 
Rose from the rose-tree swinging. 
104 



Cruel red rose from the rose-tree swaying, 
Ever to worship thee, throne thee, 
Never to lose thee or own thee. 
Thy beauty to keep me from straying, 
Thy thorns for my passionate praying. 
Rose from the rose-tree swaying. 



105 



THE AWAKENING 

T HAD no culture for my love, 

Hungrily my heart cried : 
" Knowledge, be my master, 
Turn, brain, O faster. 
Grind the seeds of wisdom fine. 
Till no mind be wise as mine. 
At my wit in smiting 
Men will smile delighting. 
'T is not too quick for craft, or 
Not too keen for laughter." 
Wise for love's sweet sake to be 
Surely is no vanity. 

I had no fairness for my love. 
Hungrily my heart cried : 
1 06 



'* Beauty, be my handmaid ! 
Leave me unafraid, 
That another glass had shown 
Fair a face as hath my own." 
So the early morning 
Found me still adorning, 
Going from the glass with pride, 
Coming back unsatisfied. 
Vain for love's sweet sake to be 
Surely is no vanity. 

Lo ! my love was not my love. 
Stonily my heart cried : 
" Take a fool for master, 
Turn, brain, O faster, 
While the jingling bells repeat 
Much the chaff and little wheat. 
Behind a pair of soul-Ht eyes 
You a soul would fain surprise. 
107 



None wise as he you ne'er could know, 
Because a sweet tongue tells you so. 
All his deeds were done before ; 
All his thoughts a borrowed store. 
Said I, ' He is heaven-sent 
With his thinking brows so bent.' 
This false light that made my day 
Was the sun's reflected ray, 
Dancing broken on the wave 
Of ignorance, nor can I save 
One tossing spark of foolish light 
To make a beacon for my night. 
Blind for love's sweet sake to be, 
Seeing is a misery." 



1 08 



MY ROSE 

T~\ROOP all the flowers in my garden 

All their fair heads hang low ; 
For rose their fairest companion 

Never again will they know. 
Bring me no flowers for wearing, 

Take these strange buds away, 
For I cannot now have the fairest ; 

My rose that has died to-day. 

What has blighted my blossom? 

Stricken it down with death. 
Over the walls of my garden, 

What save the world's cold breath ? 
109 



Then bring me no flowers for wearing, 
Take these strange buds away, 

Since I cannot now have the sweetest; 
My rose that has died to-day. 



no 



IN WINTRY WEATHER 

"pVEAR, in wintry weather, 

How close we crept together ! 
The storms, with all their thunder, 
Could not our fond hands sunder. 
No sorrow followed after, 
Cold words or scornful laughter. 
How close we crept together. 
Through all the wintry weather ! 

Dear, when each rose uncurled 
To its sweet narrow world. 
You went to cull their glory ; 
You would not hear my story, 
III 



Too sweet the birds were singing, 
Too fair the buds were swinging. 
If I should come or go 
You did not care to know. 

When each sweet rose uncurled 
To its unknown world, 
How could you e'er remember 
That in a bleak December, 
Through all the bitter weather 
We crept so close together? 



112 



MONICA 

pARDON give to Monica, 

She is so very fair — 
Though soft eyes give promises 
Rosy lips forswear. 
From the shy droop of her head. 
You a hope might take ; 
In the hiding cheek, beware. 
The dainty dimples wake. 
Pardon give to Monica. 

Pardon give to Monica, 
The havoc of her eyes. 
Yours they will not shun or seek, 
There the mischief lies. 
"3 



If the flirting lashes thus 
Make your day and night, 
Would the loosing of your bonds 
Give your heart respite ? 
Pardon give to Monica. 

Pardon give to Monica, 

She is so very fair. 

What those cruel lips may say, 

Roguish eyes forswear. 

What knight's heart amid ye all 

Were not glad to break. 

That the lips with pity droop, 

While eyes their laughter take ? 

Pardon give to Monica. 



114 



FALSE DEARBHORGIL.^ 

TT70E to the House of Breffni and to Red 

^ ' O'Ruark woe, 

Woe to us all in Erin for the shame that laid us 

low. 
And cursed be you, Dearbhorgil, who severed 

north and south, 
And ruin brought to Erin with the smiling of your 

mouth. 



1 Dearbhorgil was the daughter of the King of Meath and 
the wife of O'Ruark, Prince of Breffni. She was beloved of 
Macmurrah, King of Leinster, who is reported to have met her 
in secret and to have won her affections. Macmurrah carried 
her off, but in the subsequent war of revenge was defeated, and 
fled to England. His appeal to Henry II. of Anjou led to the 
invasion and conquest of Ireland by Strongbow and other Anglo- 
Norman adventurers. 

"5 



The Prince It is the Prince of Breifni rides quick in the pale 

of Breffni ^ ^ 

iflL °^'''^' 

bhorgii has Deep in his eyes a shadow, a frown on his fore- 

a lover. 

head lay, 
And spur and bit not sparing, he rests nor horse 

nor page, 
But rides into his castle Hke a man who wins a 

wage. 



And up the twisting staircase, into his lady's 
room, 

He strides with paling forehead, like a man to 
meet his doom. 

But from his lady's chamber he comes with sob- 
bing breath, 

With a joy upon his white lips, like a man es- 
caped from death. 
ii6 



"And shame be mine, Dearbhorgil," beneath his 

beard said he, 
'* That I should stoop to listen to a slander told 

to me. 
And shame be mine, Macmurrah, that I should 

half believe 
You could be false to kingship by stooping to 

deceive." 



But in the lady's chamber the little page did Her little 

page, 
frown enamoured 

* of her 

And on his cheek so crimson the bitter tears thepnnce a 

lie and is 
fell down. sorely 

troubled. 

**And false she is, and cruel, to a Knight so 

brave and true. 
And I wot now she is distant, thus leaving him 

the rue. 

117 



" I wot now she is riding far up on her palfrey 

white, 
And the comrade beside her is not her own 

true knight, 
A plague upon all women, from north to sunny 

south, 
Since my lips are dumb to honour for the 

smiling of her mouth." 



O'Ruark But O'Ruark went out right gladly for the lie 

goes on the 

terrace to the page had said, 

quiet his ^ ° ' 

fo1?he^^" How his lady still lay resting so weary on her 

seeks his 

lady, and bed, 

while there 

his doubts And he went out to the terrace to cool his 

are again 

awakened. ^^^^^^^ ^^^^^^ 

There he saw his kern a-watching, like one 
afraid to speak. 

ii8 



" What see you from your tower now, O kern ? " 

he turned and cried. 
" I see one on the near hills upon a king's horse 

ride." 
"What see you from your watch, kern; does 

nothing else appear? " 
" There hides one on the terrace, with her eyes 

all full of fear." 



"And who are you in hiding, who goes neath Hediscov- 

ers his wife 

this late moon?" X",*= 

where she 

" I am your true Dearbhorgil, glad home you are has hid to 

watch for 
thus soon." her lover. 

"No hour for wives to ramble; but wherefore 

do you weep?" 
"With joy for your returning — I wandered in 

my sleep." 

119 



She pre- « Joy's tears are summer rain, Queen, your eyes 

S?et are sad and red." 

for a "A dream of evil- boding, and that was all my 

dream's 

sake. dread." 

" What was the dream distressful that made your 

face so white ? " 
"I dreamt that storm and thunder surrounded 

you to-night." 



He tries to " My lady, storm and thunder ride on the near 

draw her 

into a con- hill's side." 

fession, 

?he Kig'S " Then hasten into shelter ! " the lady paled and 

Leinster . . 

riding on a Cried. 

white 

charger. " In from the lash of tempest I dare not turn to 

go, 

Lest, coming up from Leinster, it might lay 
Ulster low." 

1 20 



" My lord, the moon is paling, the dawn grows She will not 

■^ understand 

calm and clear, 5Jks?f 

__, . ■, -1 1 /. 1 draw him to 

There is no angry weather, and wherefore do her and 

into the 

you fear?" castle. 

" My lady, hush, the kern sees something on the 

way." 
" My lord, why listen to him ? — I have such 

news to say." 



" Nay, I shall hearken to him. O kern, what He does 

not listen, 
do you see ? and is full 

of anger. 

If there 's aught on the highroad now quickly tell J^^ he^sees 

^ „ a stranger 

to me." on the 

highway. 

" I see one by the pine-wood come on a charger 

white, 
He seeks the shadow always, as though he fears 

the light." 



She tries to u Half blind the kern, and aged, all wizen, cold, 

persuade <-> ' 

■SS and grey, 

A wolf is on the highroad, who hurries quick 

away." 
" A wolf. Queen, is a danger who in the shade 

does go. 
At the thief who seeks the night-time I quick 

shall bend my bow." 



{She screams.) 
The prince "Why did you call, Dearbhorgil, disturbing so 

raises his 

crossbow my aim ? " 

and she 

warXgf " ^y bodkin pierced me sorely, and that is all 

my blame." 
" Then, cry out not so loudly lest he should turn 

away." 
" My lord has but to bid me, and ever I obey." 

122 



" Look, kern, again, and answer, where creeps She tries to 

' ^ ^ > ' -f outwit him 

the lone wolf now ? " ufetalf her 

'< I see a king's plume waving by yonder oak- the prmce 

is not to be 
tree's bough." blinded. 

" It is a hawk he watches, that is hanging there 

so low." 
" Then at that bird of evil, dark death, I '11 bend 

my bow." 



{She screams.) 
"Again your call, Dearbhorgil, and would you she screams 

1- I.- 1- -.1, again and 

have him hear? her lover 

knowing 

" A bat that flew across me was all that made me V^^ "^?^^' 

ing flies. 

fear." 
" The wolf speeds down the highroad, all at your 

lady's cry, 
The hawk has spread his dark wings, and seeks 

another sky." 

123 



Now that a Why should we heed the grey hawk ? Let him 

the danger 

g„t£^. fly off to his nest, 

infoKev- Why should we heed the lone wolf? Let him 

ing she 

loves him go in peace to rest." 

alone. 

"My lady, neither beast nor bird slunk round 

my home to-night ; 
It is a high and honoured prince who rides 

away in fright." 



" And wherefore should you wax so pale, if beast 

or king it be, 
Since I have but one prince, and he stands all 

so wroth with me? 
There, let the blind kern find his kings in wolf, 

or hawk, or dove, 
But come you from the cold, my lord, into 

your lady's love." 
124 



And therefore as we do believe that which we 
most would fain, 

She wooed suspicion from him, and had his 
heart again. 

But the little page went sighing, " A plague may- 
women win, 

She has put the anger from him with the dim- 
ples in her chin." 



Woe to the House of Breffni, and to red O'Ruark But the 

curse fell 
woe, heavy on 

Ireland of 

x\nd woe to us in Erin for the shame which laid 5?'"J°"^ 

dishonour, 

us low, 
And cursed be you, Dearbhorgil, who eloped 

into the South, 
And war made loud in Erin with the smiling 

of your mouth. 

125 



"THE ME WITHIN THEE BLIND!" 

I 

A T the convent doors, full of alarm 
-^ ^ She stood, like a young bird quitting its 

nest. 
Her first flight flown right into my arm, 
Her first tears wept upon my breast. 
It was the young dove, wond'ring and afraid 
To find the narrow circle of its home 
Held not the forests in its ingle shade, 
Held not the Heavens 'neath its simple dome. 
Upon my heart she rested, finding so 
A window to the world, and whisp'ring said, 
** Your arms shall shield from evil winds that 

blow, 
There from all sorrov/s I shall hide my head. 
126 



Your eyes my outlook to this wild'ring place 

That I know nothing of, and you know all." 

So at my soul's dark windows pressed her face, 

Saw there the world's first evil shadows fall. 

She was not very learned, but all sweet, 

All yielding — to a fault exceeding kind. 

A woman-child from dainty head to feet, 

Too quick to act each impulse of her mind. 

A lily grown within a holy place. 

In air too pure the snowy bell uncurled 

Ever the lashing winds of sin to face. 

Or brave alone the knowledge of the world. 

I set the blossom in the World's hot glare, 

No walls to shelter it, no doors to keep 

Its purity ; I loved the crowd to stare. 

Nor thought that time would change its snowy 

sleep. 
A lamb it was, a little weakUng one, 
That I, the shepherd, took without its fold 
127 



And let — almost ere life was well begun — 
The wolf get to, that tore it from my hold. 

From out the walls that know not of men's love, 

To meet her father's dying voice she flew, 

Then turned to me — last friend the earth 

above — 
She, loving little, thought she loved so true. 
Wept long upon my breast, crept to my heart. 
Became my wife, and lived in joy awhile. 
And then, as time went on, she drew apart, 
I saw much tears and the less frequent smile. 
The doubtful look the eyes had, bent on me. 
As though some great illusion she had known. 
And then, alas, I did not know nor see. 
But now, too late, too plain the cause is shown. 

Full of a quaint belief in God and man. 
In prayers and miracles, and in all good, 

I 23 



The crystal fate of her pure teaching ran 
Beneath my eyes, and was not understood. 
I sullied the fair stream, for who was I 
To meet a woman's eyes when up they steal 
From gazing in the well where they descry 
The dream reflection of a fair ideal? 
A would-be cynic, and a man who had 
No hope of Heaven, no belief in Hell, 
To teach her of the world, its good and bad, 
Why was it to his lot the teaching fell? 
The little body, quickly satisfied, 
Expressed no want I did not love to give, 
I warmed it, clad it, fed it, yet denied 
The larger soul within the right to live. 
Her body would have loved me, been content 
With my great worship, had her soul gone down 
Beneath its living, but it fought and bent 
The body to its will, till with a frown 
Of almost hate, she grew to see me come 
9 129 



To draw her to me in a fond embrace, 
And kiss her Hps, to all my kisses dumb. 
And then I learned the anger of her face, 
Spoke to her, questioned her, and got reply. 
Not in these words, for she spake as a child, 
Half full of anger, half inclined to cry. 
Full of deep troubles, incoherent, wild. 
But I have read their meaning to my heart. 
Placed every thought, and speak them day by 

day, 
Until I feel the sorrow and the smart 
Will burn into my flesh when it is clay. 

" I do not love you any more," she said, 
*' Nor this great world. O, I were better dead. 
Or never born, for everything is wrong 
I once thought good. I am not brave nor strong 
To understand and keep my weak soul white ; 
It wanders from me to some dreadful night. 
130 



Before you took me life was good and sweet, 

Easy to understand and all complete ; 

Within four walls we trod our daily way; 

A holy life and love for each new day. 

Sinless bright faces, purity and prayer, 

A narrow life, yet oh, to me so fair. 

But in your mighty world I do not know 

Among its thousand ways the road to go ; 

No great community doth wield the whole, 

But many sects confront the seeking soul. 

My wrong my neighbour's right, my joy his shame. 

My tears his laughter, or my praise his blame. 

Alas, if some sure haven I had found, 

Or viewed the world from some near vantage 

ground. 
But in your arms no shelter do I know 
From all the blinding winds that round me blow. 
Life was so fair to me, and death more sweet 
With Heaven's joy, to make the crown complete. 
131 



But you, who had no God, have shut for me 
The Heavens' gates, and bid me only see 
A deaf, bUnd dome above me, and below 
The wormy grave — I shudder as I go. 

" Death was so sweet a dream, a meeting- place 
Where we again should find each lost, dear face. 
And all God's love, alas, for me no more, 
But now the grave so dark I stand before. 
Cold, black, and lonely my warm body's bed, 
No prize for living — and forever dead. 
She too is gone, the Mary full of grace. 
To me, a woman, took a mother's place, 
Heard all the little griefs I dare not tell 
To her dear Son. To her a mother-maid 
So comforting I went, all unafraid. 

'* Since God is lost, then all is lost indeed. 
You did not know the comfort or the need 
132 



Of God for me, who am so frail and weak. 
Blown by all winds, I know not where to seek. 
Too busy with your books, you did not know 
I stood beside you, and I suffered so. 
For each vain question silenced with a kiss, 
For each lost hope you did not pause to miss. 
I was a wife you had no time to woo, 
I was a woman — and you never knew. 
A child to you, because you could not hear 
My woman's soul that called so loud and clear. 
You thought that like a child I was afraid, 
With all life's instinct, of the death you made 
Me look to, and you kissed my tears away. 
While I was weeping for the friends you say 
I '11 see no more, and all the loss of those 
Who never had been lost till you arose 
To close God's gates and Heaven hide from me. 
You gave me kisses, thinking I should be 
As easy silenced as a child with sweets. 
133 



My soul will not be silent, it repeats 

All the wise reasons that you bid me write 

(I went with laughter, bidding you indite 

For that great book of yours that went to prove 

No Godhead bid the mighty world to move) 

Against the probability of God. 

" With your strong brain my weaker reason trod, 
Until at last it followed step with you, 
Beheld no God in all the starry blue. 
And at my tears you smiled, and bid me go 
Buy a new ring, a ribbon, or a bow. 
I was too childish in my prayers, I see, 
Now that all prayer has passed away from me. 
Too much belief will make another go 
Into too little, and 't was even so 
That I believed in God, and to my woe 
Did not with reason temper my belief. 
Your kindly humour, worse than biting scorn, 
134 



Smiled on my soul, till doubt at last was born. 
Better harsh words to drive my soul to bay, 
Continual laughter wore my faith away. 



" When foolishly I first would make you come 
Into the church, you knelt with heart all dumb. 
You came to please me, weary of it all. 
Until beside you I could hear the call 
Your soul made at this mockery of prayer, 
Till I too read your thoughts, and saw the glare 
Of altar lights, as I had seen the flame 
Of heathen worship. And the priest who came 
To serve his God, no longer seemed to me, 
Being God's servant, more than man to be, 
Saintlier, and purer, more than others are, 
Who look on God's high altar from afar. 
And reading thus your soul as you sat dumb, 
I prayed again you would not seek to come. 
135 



And so you smiled, as though 'twas to your 

mind, 
Saying belief sat well on womankind. 
Fed their emotions, sentiments, and so 
You loved a woman to a church to go, 
But as I did not mind, you would remain 
To write your book till I came home again. 

" These were the little things doubt fattened on, 
Until at last I found my faith had gone. 
That day — I do remember all so well — 
My baby died, I cried to God and fell 
Down on my knees, and raised my eyes to you 
For comfort from the horror that I knew. 
I cried to God to let me meet again 
My little one, where there was no more pain, 
Only great love. And ever by his feet 
Each lost familiar face to see and greet. 
And as I cried I turned and looked to you, 
136 



All dumbly praying you would say, * 'T is true 
That sweet old story. There is no good-bye.' 
But your sad pitying eyes gave me the lie, 
Saying he 's dead, and there 's no more than 

death. 
I kissed the parted lips that had no breath. 
So young to go into the dark alone, 
Never to rise. My heart seemed turned to 

stone. 
And my soul dead. Lest you should see my 

eyes 
I looked through the dim window, and surprise 
Dawned on me, for the world went by the same 
As though behind our narrow wall the flame 
Of life had not been quenched, and in its hair 
The same sad wind of death blew even there. 
Making the grey where once the gold had been. 
Blew in its eyes, and all that they had seen 
Was half forgotten. Thus I stood and saw 
137 



The world go by, obeying some strange law 
It knew not of, yet hurried to some goal 
By this same death, that had us all in thrall. 
And oh, I seemed to see into each brain, 
So busy with small thoughts, and all so vain, 
Of petty fashions, plans for years to come — 
Plans made for times when most their lips were 

dumb. 
It seemed to me that death stood by my side 
And smiled upon the crowd, well satisfied 
To see them pass so gay, all fashion's slave. 
And then I fell to thinking that indeed 
The world was ill and cruel, since my need 
Was all unwept for, that it drew not near 
From out the sunshine once, to shed a tear, 
But flitted by with laughter, and all gay. 
Through the dim hours that tread their time 

away. 



138 



"It was that night I dreamed the same sad 

dream, 
That I upon a barren hill did seem 
To watch the world go by in one great throng ; 
As mountain winds will blow the leaves along 
By time's swift wind they ever hurried on ; 
And as they passed their faces paled or shone 
With fear or love of God. And then I saw 
That each poor, weary traveller did draw 
A burden with him, and it seemed I knew 
What was within the load that each one drew. 
In one lay sorrow, in another pain, 
In this stern duty done that bore no gain. 
Here poverty was big, there bravely borne 
Harsh words, then blows some weary back had 

torn. 
So on, so on, but more with grief were bent 
Than aught besides, tears did they bear content. 
And when I closed my eyes awhile to rest 
139 



From all these moving thousands, strangely 

blessed 
With their sad loads, I looked again, and there 
Beheld a figure, white, divinely fair, 
Stretched on a cross, by hands that still were red 
With dropping blood ; and on the glorious head 
A crown of thorns, while yet the eyes unclosed 
Had not the glare of death's most chill repose, 
But glowed yet with a love beyond man's power. 

" And as I gazed the people in the shower 

Of his life's blood laid down their burdens there. 

Departing whole, and with their faces fair 

* Through all the ages, living still,' I cried, 

* O Thou beloved God/ And over all the earth 
I saw Faith move, and knew it had its birth 

As soon as Time, and all beneath the sun 
Drew comfort from their Gods — that were but 
One, 

140 



The only God, though served m many ways. 

And as I prayed, I heard to my amaze 

Long laughter, hard and loud, that shook and 

spread 
Around, above us, over every head 
Of that vast crowd, that shuddered, fell apart 
Before the mockery, and in my heart 
Cold horror grew. I turned to seek the cause 
Of that strange humour — coming without pause, 
And there, upon a little hill, beheld 
A man, face hid in hands, whose laughter swelled 
Above all cries. ' Wherefore,' I said, ' you dare 
Disturb the people, busy with their prayer, 
What do you see to move your laughter so ? ' 
* I see,' he said, ' a multitude, that go 
All full of prayer, yet laden do\Am with grief, 
With pain and tears, yet, such is their belief. 
The load is light.* And so he laughed again. 
' And is your mirth,' I said, ' at joy or pain ? ' 
141 



' I laugh to see them come and pray/ he said, 
*To pray, and pray, and pray, when God is 

dead.' 
And as he spoke the people, parting, fell 
Into confusion, underneath the spell 
Of his loud laughter, and beneath the Cross 
Came sounds of strife; he laughed * Behold the 

loss 
Of Him who never was.' I looked and there, 
Still nailed, a wooden God the tree did bear. 
And then the crowd slow-drifting crept away. 
All deeply laden ; I alone did stay. 
Hearing their parting cries, as on and on 
Into the dust that hid them they were gone. 
And then he spoke, when all had passed us by, 
* They are but as the leaves that fall and fly. 
Blown by the winds of time they on are borne 
To separate, and from each other torn 
To fade apart, to wither there and die.' 
142 



And as he laughed I gave a bitter cry, 
And sprang to stop him ; raising up a stone 
To slay him with, I vowed he should atone 
For this black horror, in a holy place. 
He raised his head — O God, he had your 
face ! " 

And here she ended all the bitter tale, 
And I, poor fool, no word could find to speak, 
But let her go, with little face all pale, 
And heavy sobbing like her heart would break. 
I was so angry, finding all my care 
And all my love as nothing in her sight, 
I had forgotten that the larger share 
Was in my heart, and never saw the light. 
I was too old to act a lad's gay part. 
To hang upon her words, be by her side 
All the long day, yet oh, within my heart 
She had no rival since she was my bride, 
143 



Save those same books, that did divorce indeed 
Her love for me. Ah, would that I had torn 
Them leaf from leaf, and so destroyed my creed, 
Before they caused that gentle heart to mourn. 
Would I had thrown myself down at her feet, 
And learned there the simple faith she knew. 
Not by a sneer the every sign to meet. 
And pierce the gentle soul thus through and 

through. 
Would I had caught her as she passed me then, 
All full of tears, and flung my book away. 
And vowed no more to wound her with my pen ; 
What grief was brought me for that brief delay ! 
Oh, what was fame that I should sacrifice 
My love's sweet soul, to catch the world's vain 

ear, 
More joy, indeed, to keep the heart I prize 
Above all fame, beside me ever dear. 
But I with sullen look let her pass by, 
144 



And did not speak when last she turned her 

head, 
Nor when beside the door I heard a sigh 
Breathing farewell, although my own heart bled. 
"Good-bye," "Good-bye," I hear it night and 

day, 
Always with tears, and then the whisper low, 
" I do not care now what I do or say, 
There is no rights and I am glad to go." 
She glad to go ! — I did not heed her speech 
Until, all tired of anger I had gone 
Into her room, a pardon to beseech. 
And found the bed had not been pressed upon, 
And it so late. All through the empty room, 
And through the house I searched for her in 

vain. 
And staggered, like a man to meet his doom. 
Out in the darkness to the storm and rain. 
And there I ran and called to her till dawn. 
10 145 



Like some mad thing, I hunted through the 

night, 
Until the glowing stars that on me shone 
Withdrew in pity, giving me the light. 
Sane with the morning, home I sought once 

more, 
My home to me now ever desolate. 
But day, alas, did not my peace restore. 
And bring her back in love, who left in hate. 

"Good-bye," "Good-bye," "and I am glad to 

go," 
O God, those words that echo down the years, 
To drop upon my heart in endless woe. 
With all the bitter hopelessness of tears. 
Gone, gone, how did they ever pass 
The lone, long months, the endless weeks and 

days. 
The winged hopes that flew from me, alas, 
146 



And left me helpless in a stunned amaze. 
Gone, gone, forever gone, a ghost stole by 
Within my house to dwell, and met me there, 
Behind each open door to peep and fly, 
And look upon me fiom her empty chair. 
Sweet ghost it was, that had no face but hers ; 
One time I thought her small hand on my cheek, 
Thinking she had returned all unawares. 
Reached up to hold her, half afraid to speak. 
Reached up and found within my eager hand, 
A withered leaf blown through the open door. 
And then again I seemed to see her stand, 
And hear the sobbing of her voice once more. 
" We are but as the leaves that fall and fly, 
Blown by the wind of time they on are borne. 
To fade apart, to wither there and die, 
To separate, each from the other torn." 
Oh, the long days, I could not stay nor go 
By my lone house, but like a maddened thing 
147 



Would dream some time she, wounded, home 

might stray 
Like some lost dove upon a broken wing. 
Like some poor bird robbed of its nestling, I 
Would hasten home to find it cold and drear, 
Again fly forth, because some hidden cry 
Would seem her voice that called in trouble near. 
Oh, the long hours of sorrow and of gloom 
'Neath the slow-lifting curtain of the night, 
When each black hour might be her stroke of 

doom. 
And every second make her deadly plight. 

Did I then ever sleep, or was my dream 
So like to waking that there seemed to be 
No slaking of my anguish ! In the stream 
Of drowning thoughts there was no hope for me. 
" I do not care now what I do," she said. 
O God, I trembled, seeking in the night, 
148 



Did she guess at her dangers, so untried, 

What did she dream of in her desperate flight? 

I do beheve in hell, I do believe 

In all its tortures. I have known great grief 

As few men know it, nor did I receive 

Or for a moment gain a prayer's relief. 

But through the night I wander, damned alone, 

With Hell's despair high flaming in my breast. 

My every hope long turned into a stone ; 

And yet I go, still seeking without rest. 

Once crouching in the shadow of my hall 
I saw a woman raise her hand to ring. 
Eager with hope I hurried — heard her fall 
To drunken weeping, then begin to sing. 
Cold with this horror, out into the night 
I ran and wandered through the streets till morn. 
And once again between me and the light 
I saw one pass — and hope again was born. 
149 



Slow did I follow till my foolish heart 
Leaped up and claimed her, so I took her hand, 
To meet a stranger's eyes, and feel her start. 
Surprised at grief she could not understand. 
For one brief moment did the womanhood. 
Half quenched in her, look forth with pity sweet. 
As though a sorrow once she understood — 
Then mocking laughter echoed through the street. 
And left me broken, adding to my hell 
Another torture. Could I live and know 
My child was out amongst these fiends to dwell. 
Her small, lost feet went straying to and fro ? 

All the cold river did I walk beside. 
Thinking her face would sometime meet my eyes 
White on some dark wave pillow, but the tide 
Lay dull and silent till the grey sunrise. 
Once did I see a little form all bent 
Go by the water, creeping in the shade, 
150 



As though the last small grain of hope were spent, 
And all were lost, the debtor still unpaid. 
She flung herself upon a bench at last, 
Her thin face hidden in a shaking hand ; 
My soul cried to her when I would have passed, 
I knelt beside her, by my grief unmanned. 
I called one name, I raised her drooping head. 
My hands, wet with her tears, lay on her cheek. 
"Beloved," I cried; she thrust me off and fled 
Before the words my heart had made me speak. 
But not before her face I saw and knew. 
She was not my lost love, but one so sad. 
So lost to hope, that I should track her too, 
Or solitude and grief would make her mad. 
But when I tried to seek her, she had passed 
Into the whirling world, to tread alone 
Life's bitter fruit, and drain the wine at last 
Whose every drop will burn her heart to stone. 
O women, women, in these awful nights 
151 



I learned the cruel burden which is yours ; 

Thrust from the giddy world of dear delights 

Into the dark, she suffers and endures. 

Tender, you are not fit for such a fight, 

Or such a foe as man can be to you. 

God pity those who wander in the night. 

And have no star of love to guide them through ! 

And oh, God pity me who may not know 

Where go her straying feet by night or day, 

When each long mile I eagerly do go 

May bear me from her yet more far away. 

God pity me, who in the night awake 

Do fear the cruel laughter of the town 

And women's cries. The echoing feet, who 

make 
Life's bitter struggle ere they sink, go down. 



152 



II 

To-night I found her, fate was kind to me ; 
For one brief hour I had her once again, 
And her dear face once more was blessed to see, 
Although my voice did call to her in vain. 
Back to her convent home she had returned, 
Walked many miles, and fell before the door. 
All weary save the brain that throbbed and 

burned, 
And restless fever through her pulses tore. 
There was she found, and borne into the home 
She left all full of eager hopes, and gay 
With life's young innocence that loved to roam, 
And fell by thieves upon the world's highway. 
Robbed of all joys, and whipped by time and 

care. 
This poor wayfarer had once more gene back 
To that lost home she once remembered fair, 
To seek her jewels on the homeward track. 
153 



And so I found her. Sitting by her bed 
I marvelled greatly how she ever came 
So many miles, for yet her soft feet bled, 
And bitter hardship marred her tender frame. 
I may not ever know what she has borne 
Through these long days when she was lost to me, 
But oh, the bitterest grief I have to mourn 
Are those most cruel trials I did not see ; 
Are those sad, unseen tears, whose track remained 
In her sad eyes that did not rest in sleep, 
Are those unknown afflictions, marked and stained 
On the small hands she did not let me keep. 
I heard her fevered lips call on the dead, 
In loving cries that through her bosom tore. 
And then repeating all the words I said 
Of resurrection, fall to weeping sore. 

And then she sobbed, " Death stands here by my 
side 

154 



And my sad soul is all afraid to go, 
Because the hope of Heaven is still denied. 
What bears the darkness yet I cannot know, 
I would be brave if I could overcome 
The evil thoughts that follow me and cry. 
All in my ears, that Heaven itself is dumb, 
And death be mine forever when I die." 

And so to soothe her, spoke my tortured voice 
Breathing a poem that once she loved and knew. 
How in death's anguish shall the soul rejoice, 
And joy be hers when last she struggles through. 
And "Oh," I said, "sometime I too shall see 
* Peace out of pain^ ^ a lights and ' then thy 

breast.'' 
Safe in my arms, beloved, you shall be 
In long embrace, ' and with God be the rest' " 
And hearing me with her bewildered brain. 
She caught the verses with a sudden smile, 
155 



MAR 6 ^899 



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